AltaiTavan Bogd

The Altai is the far corner of the country, so day one is about covering ground. Pavement most of the way southwest through the steppe to Bayankhongor, a provincial town on the edge of the Gobi. Easy night, early start tomorrow — the longest driving day of the trip is next.

A full day in the van, and the one that earns you the Altai. We cross Govi-Altai, where the steppe turns to desert and the mountains begin to stack up on the horizon. Khovd is the old garrison town of the west — a melting pot of Kazakh, Khalkh, and a dozen smaller peoples. Night in Khovd.

A shorter, beautiful leg. Tolbo Lake is a startling blue slab at altitude — we stop for it. Into Ölgii by afternoon: a different language, different food, mosques on the skyline. This is where my Kazakh co-host joins and leads. We sort out gear and the lake run, and sleep in town before heading into the mountains.

We leave town through Sagsai, cross the Mogoit bridge, and work along rough track to the lakes — about 165 km but slow going. On the way we stop with a Kazakh eagle-hunter family; you can hold the eagle if you want (heavy — about seven kilos). Sleep in a family ger on the Khoton shore, snow-line mountains across the water.

Mongolian horses are stockier than they look and handle the rocky trails fine. The route to the Turgen falls crosses larch forest and a few icy streams and ends below the snow-line basically on the China border. Easy pace, long day. Family camp at night, the mountains close on every side.

The big mountain day. We drive in through high passes — the rock changes colour every hour — past the milky Süün Gol to the ranger station, then walk up to the sacred Ovoo: the Five Holy Peaks of Tavan Bogd and the Potanin Glacier right there. Optional extra push gets you onto the ice. Bronze-Age petroglyphs on the way out. Night in the park.

We close the Altai loop on a long but spectacular drive — the sacred massif of Tsengel Khairkhan on one side, then down through Tsengel soum and back to Ölgii by evening. A slow last evening with the co-host: the bazaar, embroidery and leather from a couple of artisans, and beshbarmak before the road east.

We don't retrace the whole way home — we loop. East past Khovd into the great-lakes depression, a string of enormous lakes between the mountain ranges of the west. We camp by the water as the Altai finally drops behind us. A long driving day, but this emptiness is exactly what you came west for.

We cross into Zavkhan and reach Ikh-Uul, where we move in with Chuka — my co-host out west, who knows these mountains the way I know the central steppe. His family hosts us: their ger, their food, their kitchen. Milk tea, a long dinner, and the first night under a roof in a few days.

A driving day that ends well. We come down through Tsetserleg, Arkhangai's leafy capital, then on to Tsenkher: 86 °C at the source, piped into wooden tubs at varying temperatures. You soak, you read, you soak again, and the stars do the rest. After ten days on the road this is the reward.

Home run. Erdene Zuu at Kharkhorin is Mongolia's oldest surviving monastery — 16th century, walled with 108 stupas, built on the site of Chinggis Khaan's old capital. Then east on tarmac and back into UB in the evening. Eleven days and the full width of the country behind you. Group dinner that night if anyone still has the legs.