Running in the Khentii Mountains
Sep 08, 2010
You were out of breath? Well we are at 1600m here.
Set off and run anywhere you want, in any direction, for any duration. Run anywhere. There are no obstacles. No fences here. Run up this hill. Uphill. Dry air and cold, burning the back of your throat. Uphill. Run up this hill and approach the crest out of breath. Reach the crest and be presented with a breathlessly vast landscape. A landscape of almost barren grassland - browned and grazed shawn from a long dry summer - rocky outcrops and cliff faces and emptiness. Run anywhere. Anywhere you want. This landscape is yours to run through. Just run. Run until you're out of breath again and then walk for a while. Run through thinned birch copses, burnt and cut down, through dried swamps, clustered tufts of dormant reeds. Run. Run, and then walk for a while. Barking, gnarling guard dog. Run away. Marmot warren. Run around. Run uphill again. Uphill and lost. Around the next cliff, and the next one. Now run down the sweeping slope. Braking. Braking. And then let the brakes off, accelerating down, feet struggling to keep up with your own propelling gravity. Run around the next cliff, and the next one, and the next one and then there it is beneath you, the clustered gers waiting for you to run down to them.