Mongol Derby 2010

The Mongol Derby, organised by The Adventurists, is a 1000km horse race across Mongolia on semi-wild ponies.  Prometheus supports the event by providing equipment, training and medical support.  This year our medical volunteers were Dr Jez Smith, Gary Robertson (paramedic) and Anna Crossley (A&E Nurse).  Readers of our previous blogs may remember that Jez was a medic on last year's 'Derby and he provided much valued continuity for this one.  Gary attended the ExpeMed course earlier on in the year and this is his first expedition, while Anna has experience of working in remote and hostile environments already, having worked in Afghanistan and Africa.

Communications were a little difficult this time so they weren't able to send through blogs in real time, but Anna kept a diary and her blogs appear below along with photos from all three.

2^nd August

Gary and I rendezvous at Heathrow airport.  We commandeer an enormous trolley when a porter is not keeping guard and lug in excess of 100 kg of medical gear to check in.  After holding up the queue for the best part of an hour Gary wins over the check in girl and we get upgraded to Business Class arriving at night into Ulaan Baatar airport.  Passport control takes forever but baggage collection is a riot of cardboard boxes from Korea, an enormous scanner, security guards and a sniffer dog.  Despite everyone being sent to the scanner, somehow with a fluorescent trauma bergan and US camouflage piggot pouches full of med kit, we are waved through past the sleeping sniffer spaniel.  Our first experience of driving takes us to our hotel down a potholed tarmac road to central UB.  It quickly becomes apparent that driver etiquette does not exist and the car horn is king.  Unbelievably we only see one crash en route and the driver is chalk marking his car's position on the road like a motor crime scene.

3^rd August and 4^th August

Gary and I meet Jez who is off to the start line with the riders for pre-race training.  The med kit is loaded into his jeep along with pots, pans and other camping paraphernalia.  Gary and I head off with the vets to do our camping supermarket sweep at the State Department Store.  Shopping trolleys are piled high with mystery Korean cans.  Something called 'Eco Meat' forms the basis of our canned foods and we stock up on canned vegetables and fruit having been informed neither exist outside this store.  Gary's jeep turns up to take us to the start line but only has 3 seats so I am left behind to await transport that night.  News arrives that a rider has hurt herself on her first ride on the Mongolian horses.  The spooked horse unceremoniously threw off the rider sideways landing on her right shoulder.  Jez takes her to the clinic in Kharkhorin and an xray confirms his suspicion of a fractured clavicle.  Sadly the race for this rider is over before it officially starts.  I eventually leave UB at 2200hrs and am left trying to negotiate the horrendous traffic out of UB.  A 7 hour drive by GPS ensues trying to find a ger camp on the Steppe with car headlamps about as effective as my head torch in a country with no light pollution and cloud cover...

5th and 6^th August

The riders are given GPS revision training although for a few it appears to be the first time the GPS has come out of its box.  A new set of wilder horses, similar to those that will be ridden for the duration of the race, are brought to the horse line for the practice ride and GPS check.  Some comedy moments ensue as riders try to get on horses not used to Western saddles or riders and start bucking trying to shed rider and load before racing off across the Steppe into the distance with a Mongolian horseman in hot pursuit.  Thankfully nothing but pride is injured and we occupy ourselves spreading the med kit outside the ger to decide the best way of breaking down the kit between 2 vehicles.  We give a medical brief to the riders and explain our role and the dangers of the trip they are undertaking.  Gary and I teach emergency first aid, splinting and catastrophic haemorrhage.  The riders all look a shade paler at the end of our talk as the reality sinks in that if they are unlucky to injure themselves badly the consequences of being in the deserted Steppe are not positive.  Thankfully a mini-Naadam has been organised to lift spirits and archery, stunt riding and a horse race between children of 7-14 years of age keep us entertained.  The pre race party involves an introduction to Aireg - fermented mare's milk - and the locals encourage participation of a game similar to rock, paper, scissors which the Westerners regularly lose and are forced to drink something that whilst I am sure is a local delicacy; to me tastes as if I have licked a goat.

8^th August

A wet and windy start saw the riders over the start line into the wilderness of the Steppe.  The medics took their last shower and head out after them paralleling the rider route.  Communication problems ensue with the many forms of kit and we realise that in reality the satellite phone is the only method of effective communication between the medic vehicles and the Ops room.  Our first 911 call from the spot tracker comes early next day.  A rider's horse has tripped in a marmot hole and both rider and horse have ended up on the ground.  Luckily we are not too far away and despite having an enormous haematoma and the potential for a cracking black eye, the rider is well and to her credit jumps straight back on a horse at the next urtuu and continues.  Some of the riders look shattered as the reality of riding for 14 hours a day sinks in.  Once we know the riders are all safely in a horse station for the night we go to find a camp spot.  Tonight we find a beautifully elevated piece of ground overlooking a wide valley and some dogs come to surround our camp looking for scraps from the (surprisingly good) eco-meat meal (vessels and cartilage removed) and in turn guard us overnight. 

9^th August

Regular concern with one rider causes us to make repeated trips back and forth across the Steppe.  Dehydration and fatigue are the main cause - it is apparent that for some riders the challenge may lie not in the horse riding but in the combination of endurance racing, an altered (some may say fatty and bland) diet, and physical and mental fatigue.  With some good old-fashioned tough love and dioralyte the medical team bolster the riders to plug on - things can only get better...?  The skipping rope I brought to help me combat the goat fat causes a serious competition with a child at the urtuu.  After an hour, she has learnt to skip backwards, count to ten in English and shows no sign of fatigue.  I have learnt nothing and my knees are killing me.  I blame the vodka we were fed at 0630 as a welcome by a ger owner and retire to the jeep.

  10^th August

After choosing a camp site in the dark we awoke to be told we were sleeping on an ancient burial ground which may explain why the locals scheduled to come and see us for medical problems never arrived.  The cold light of day also revealed the Mongolian version of the foot and mouth carcass mountain a mere 200 metres away.  Although we attempted to choose more wisely, this evening saw us pitching camp on a disused Russian tank range surrounded by ghostly buildings and (we hoped) exploded ordinance.  This did not deter growing numbers of people set to join the medical outcasts for a soiree and a few riders sought us out for an unofficial halfway party night.  Airag optional.

11th and 12^th August

To our delight we finally crossed a river.  The lingering smell of mutton was all pervading in the confines of the jeeps so bodies and clothes were washed under clear blue skies.  The team were asked to see a rider with a shoulder problem.  The endurance riding of the last five days had proved too great for a previous injury and severe pain plus dehydration and an ill-timed bout of gastroenteritis overwhelmed her.  Sadly good painkillers, rest and rehydration were not enough to make her feel well enough to continue.    The rest of the field continue to spread out as the weather on the Steppe draws in radically changing the potential of heatstroke to hypothermia in the space of 24 hours.  As the deluge makes us question how we can find a dry patch of camp ground we see signs for a tourist ger camp and hide away from golf-ball sized hailstones by a much needed wood burning stove.  The lead riders make a bid for freedom through the hail storm and earn our hard won respect.

13^th August

The rider route takes all of us via a newly refurbished monastery.  Flooding has caused the thousands of worshippers gathered for the opening ceremony to become stranded but luckily our jeeps plough through the river crossing with water washing over the bonnet.  Prayer scarves adorn fences and trees, prayer wheels turn ceaselessly as the monastery heaves with Mongolians paying their respects.  A welcome diversion from noodle goat fat and eco meat is found in the form of a fried goat pancake eaten next to the torso-less head of the pancake contents.  Delicious!

14^th and 15^th August

The first of the riders cross the finish line.  The medics are called back along the route to an urtuu to see an innocuous back injury before heading to the nearest sum town of Binder to get fuel as we are on our last drops.  Our prayers for electricity are not answered as a transformer has blown 3 days previously and no-one knows when it will be repaired.  Despite plundering all the other jeeps' fuel reserves our med jeep has to be grounded at the final urtuu to await the last riders as we do not have enough fuel to respond to a 911 call.  Thankfully the race carries on without incident.  Having made friends with a tame lame goat we are briefly dismayed the next day to see a goat being stuffed into a churn and presented a few hours later as a feast to honour our visit.  All the vets and medics scan the urtuu for our furry friend and once he is spotted attempting to eat a tent we are able to pass greasy hot rocks around to aid our good health and tuck into the equivalent of barbecued goat without guilt.

16^th August to18^th August

All riders cross the line and in the Mongolian spirit our drivers appear to think this gives them free reign to race over the line.  Despite fearing for my life and wondering if I can extract myself from a potentially mangled jeep we arrive unscathed and join the riders for congratulatory vodka drinking.  A post race Nadaam allows Gary to don a traditional wrestling jacket and attempt a Mongolian vs Northern Ireland bout...and lose. The Mongolian knuckle bone flicking champions show us how it is done but it proves far harder than it appears and causes our last injury of the Derby - a subluxed metacarpel-phalangeal joint tendon.  Thankfully we are medically stood down from (..and possibly form part of..) the ensuing vodka induced revelry prior to the endless drive back to UB.  I never realised a tarmaced road would look so good...

19^th and 20^th August

A day of losing ourselves in the Black Market sees us part with our last tögrög and emerge with a ridiculous number of souvenirs.  Gary and I lose any chance of gaining a seat in Business Class again when a souvenir from the night at the disused Russian tank range is discovered in Gary's bag...  However we board the plane and bid a fond farewell to Mongolia, a fantastic trip and look forward to a return to civilisation, a varied diet and, happily; a lack of Airag.