Thank Goliath

“Where are you going?”

“Mongolia.”

“Why do you want to go there?”

“I want to see how people live.”

“You can’t run from your problems.”

“I’m not running. I’m doing something.”

“OK, but can’t you do something different?”

“Mom, do you even know where Mongolia is?”

“They live in those things. The jurts.”

“Yurts.”

“It’s cold there now.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You made money but now you want to go live like you’re poor.”

“They’re not poor.”

“Your father didn’t have an indoor bathroom until he came to Canada.”

“Mom, I just want to go away. Everyone and everything are bothering me.”

“Why don’t you come here? Put a tent in the backyard. Stay in the cold. And you could use our bathroom whenever you want. Nobody will bother you.”

“Mom, you’re bothering me.”

“I’m your mother. I’m supposed to bother you.”

“I’m going to learn how to hunt with eagles.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s interesting to me.”

“Are you bringing food with you?”

“I have some power bars. I can only bring one duffle bag.”

“That’s not enough. You’re going to be hungry.”

“They’ll have food.”

“You can accomplish the same thing in our backyard.”

“Is Genghis Khan in your backyard?”

“No one ever said life was supposed to be easy.”

“Maybe it can be easier.”

“OK, then come here. It’s easier. You can stay in the snow as long as you want.”

“Do you think dad can run a cable line to the tent so I can watch television?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Mom, I’ll be fine. I’ll talk with you in a couple weeks.”

My mother knew I was hurting. She wanted to comfort me and keep me safe, but she also knew that I was like her. Once I had made up my mind, no one was going to stop me. She knew I needed to do something to help me heal; she just didn’t feel that I needed to go to this extreme.

On December 31, 2002, I boarded a plane in Cleveland, Ohio. My final destination would be somewhere in Outer Mongolia, near the borders of Siberia and Kazakhstan. A year earlier, I had read an article about nomads who lived in the barren lands of the Altai Mountains. One of the customs of these nomads, which dated back a couple thousand years, was a sport called “eagle hunting,” The nomads didn’t hunt eagles but rather used them to hunt prey such as fox and rabbit. It was like falconry, only with golden eagles. I was fascinated by this phenomenon. I didn’t understand how they could corral and train such a powerful creature that could fly away at any moment.

I was also captivated by the day-to-day life of nomads. I was curious why they were living the way they were in the 21st century. Up until that point in my life, I pursued financial freedom in any manner I could. I had grown up poor, and I believed having more and having the latest and greatest in every material possession was the pinnacle of success. Yet, these people appeared to live with the exact opposite intentions. They lived in tents and owned very few worldly goods, and from everything I read, they were very happy. I didn’t understand how you could live essentially the same way for thousands of years and not want to experience more or different.

Four planes and three days later, I still had five hours of driving to reach my host in his home. I was with my translator and guide, Anya. I met up with him in the small, modest town of Olgii.

Within minutes of deplaning, I realized my toes were getting cold. It was -25 Celsius. For the trip, I was only permitted one duffle bag, which had to carry a sleeping bag, water, medical supplies, and some food. The clothing I wore would be the only clothing I had. When I prepared for the trip, I did a lot of research trying to find the right clothing and footwear. I needed clothing and boots that allowed me to be nimble because I would be on horseback four to six hours a day. However, I also needed clothing that could protect me from the extreme cold. During storms, the temperature could drop to -80 Celsius very quickly. In extreme situations, if you could not make it back to your shelter, you would have to kill your horse, gut it, and get inside of it until the storm passed.

Knowing all of this in advance, I set out to buy the best of what I could find. I wanted to be prepared for every possible change in climate. And I thought I was. But now, within minutes, I was feeling my toes get cold in my brand-new boots. I thought to myself, “I’m never going to make it.” I thought if my toes were cold now, what would they feel like after hours or days in the cold?