It is sunset and I try not to stare straight into the red sun but it is an impossible task. The sky is too beautiful. I’ve been dosing along with the rest of the group. Every time I have woken up today I’ve looked out the window of the train to see scenery so foreign and new to me. I see neighborhoods with identical architecture from the Cultural Revolution with the heavy Russian influence. I see miles of nothing except brown grass as far as the eye can see with the occasional sheepherder with his flock.

Our exhausted group retired after dinner, still recouping from Beijing good-byes. We awakened for some border fun at around 10:30 p.m. when they change the wheels of the train. They do this because China and Mongolia decided to have different kinds of train tracks to protect the countries from military invasion. We watched in awe as our entire train car was lifted ten feet into the air as they changed the wheels.

We had our passports stamped and were on our way. At 1:00 a.m. I stood by the window in the hallway of our train and looked out at the black quietness. It was cold, and I could not see any lights for miles. All I could think of at that particular moment was how lucky I was. There are not very many untouched places on the planet and here I was, experiencing it on a Russian train with some friendly Mongols, while drinking some sweet tea.

I awoke the next morning and looked outside to see the rolling hills of the Gobi and a herd of 20 wooly camels run by. It was then that I saw my first gers (yurts) and the true nomadic people. All in all, the train ride was a restful and peaceful experience as our feelings changed from a sad feeling of leaving Beijing to the excitement of anticipated adventures to come.