Fermented Mare's Milk and the Manly Arts

In

the 13th century, Mongolia was the center of the uncivilized world. United by Genghis Khan in 1206 with the aim of conquering all known lands, the delinquent barbarians of the Eastern Steppes pulverized living standards from the Pacific to the Mediterranean in two generations. Today, something of the legacy of Genghis endures. Frigid winters and parched summers have reduced the once proud nomads to medieval poverty, fighting for the survival of their traditional way of life. And although full-time herding may be dying out, riding the stocky ponies that were the panzers of Genghis' galloping blitzkrieg is still the best way for travelers to explore Mongolia's expanses.

The starting point for any trip is the capital, Ulan Bator, reached by Mongolian Airlines (MIAT) or Air China from Beijing. From the air, Mongolia looks like one huge paddock. Smoothed grasslands that cover an area three times the size of France are punctuated by an occasional group of gers, the circular tents of grubby white felt that many Mongols call home. You'll need a four-wheel drive once out of town. Most people take pre-arranged tours but Karakoram Expeditions can fix transport, guides and horses for independent travelers. Call (976) 1-315655.

There are any number of treks. Our group of seven chose a four-day ride over the spurs of Mount Tsast, the highest peak in western Mongolia. At 4,193 m, it is snowcapped even in summer, but its slopes fall into broad, warm valleys, grazed to a natural baize by camels, sheep, goats, yak and horses.

Our guides and helpers introduced themselves on our arrival. Mongolians name their children on an I-spy basis. In our four days, we met "Cockroach," "Airplane" and "Axe," and hulking babyweights "5 kg" and "8 kg." Such unwarrior-like sentimentality does not extend to animals, however, and our rides were distinguished simply as "the black one" or "the fat, lazy one."

Once we were under way, zigzagging paths up steep slopes generally demanded the group ride in single file atop sheer shale ridges. Upon breaching a pass, we stopped for lunch, while the support trucks and mobile kitchen took the low road. As we rode, the pure air was scented with wild mint and garlic brushed by the horses' hooves. The grunt of a yak, a marmot whistle or a bird's wing-beat carried undisturbed across the valley.

Kites hovering ahead of us indicated a ger. The tradition is to shout "Hold the dog!" on approaching to warn the occupants to restrain their snarling mastiff. Let the horsemen deal with formal greetings. They'll produce a snuff bottle from the upper folds of their gowns, which double as carryalls, and hand it over for a snort while exchanging a long handshake. Bring appetite enough for thick, yak-milk yogurt, cheese and marmot meat hot from a dung-fired stove. Try fermented cow's or mare's milk. After a bowl or two, you'll be ready to invade Europe yourself.

Mongolian ponies prefer people to smell like goats and are spooked by cameras. Otherwise, they are fine for beginners. (They don't mind different saddles, so consider taking your own to replace the unforgiving wooden Mongolian model.) Try to visit in July for the Naadam, or manly sports, festival of archery, wrestling and horse racing. The events were begun by Genghis to ensure his hordes stayed sharp between maraudings, but these days jockeys can be as young as five and women compete in all but wrestling. Rides can also be planned to see ethnic Kazakhs hunting with trained eagles. For individually tailored routes, try Britain's Steppes East on (44) 01285-810267.