Our Gobi Desert adventure began on a biting cold and windy day in Ulaanbaatar. We set off for Ich Nart Nature Reserve in the Eastern Gobi, hoping to spot elusive Ibex goats and Argali sheep.

Over the next five days we would traverse rarely-visited roads and explore some of Mongolia’s most remote landscapes. Our trusty vehicle was a rugged Russian UAZ van — an old-school beast that would prove remarkably capable off-road.

We faced an early delay of about an hour as dust storms had closed the main paved north-south road. Once underway, we headed southeast toward China, climbing from 4,300 to 5,400 feet through treeless rolling hills where patches of snow still lingered and herds of horses, sheep, and goats roamed freely.

Lunch was a simple but hearty mutton noodle dish at a roadside café — a meal that would become very familiar over the coming days. Rural Mongolia’s facilities were basic; toilets were often just a rock or a ditch behind a building, and when proper toilets existed, they were long-drop squats made even more challenging by the strong desert wind.

At the 200 km mark, we stopped for fuel and discovered our alternator was faulty. Our driver Gambaa calmly pulled a spare from the back of the van and replaced it on the spot — a perfect example of the resourcefulness needed for desert travel.

At the 250 km mark we left the paved road behind and entered the true desert. We wouldn’t see tarmac again for five days. Due to high winds, our original plan to camp was abandoned, and we instead sought shelter with a local nomadic family just outside the nature reserve.

Finding a family took some time because of drought conditions affecting their migration patterns. After an hour of searching, we arrived at a ger where the family warmly welcomed us — complete strangers — and offered hot tea, noodle soup, and dried mutton.

As night fell, they laid out mats for us on the floor of the ger. We fell asleep to the sound of the fierce wind whistling around the felt walls of our first traditional Mongolian home.