Mongolia | New Book | Wanders in the Khentii Mountains of Mongolia

In 1997 I did a ten-day horse trip to the Onon Hot Springs and the beginning of the Onon River in Khentii Aimag, northeast of Ulaanbaatar, as described in my book Wanders in Northern Mongolia. On the return leg of the trip I ascended 7,749-foot Burkhan Khaldun, also known as Khentii Khan Uul, arguably the most sacred mountain in Mongolia. The mountain is mentioned in the Secret History of the Mongols, a thirteenth-century account of the rise of the Mongols under Chingis Khan, and it was here, according to the Secret History, that Temüjin—the future Chingis Khan—hid from the Merkid tribesmen who had kidnapped his wife and wanted to capture him. According to legend, Chingis Khan also came here to pray before embarking on his military campaigns. Later the mountain would be inextricably bound up in the cult of Chingis Khan and also become a pilgrimage site for Buddhists. Still later some would claim that Chingis Khan was born near Burkhan Khaldun and was buried on its summit.

Not long after my trip two Mongolian historians, D. Bazargür and D. Enkhbayar, published a book entitled Chinggis Khaan Atlas. The Atlas contained thirty-seven maps (including insets) depicting in great detail the locations of many places and events mentioned in the Secret History of the Mongols. After I had studied the Atlas in detail and interviewed Bazargür and Enkhbayar I decided that I would return to the Burkhan Khaldun area and visit some of the places shown on the maps.

 

In the meantime I had made a pilgrimage to 21,778-foot Mount Kailash, the sacred mountain in Tibet worshipped by Buddhists, Hindus, Jains, Bönpos (followers of the Bön religion), shamans, and others, and by then also a favorite destination for adventure tourism. No one is allowed to climb to the summit of Mount Kailash, but thousands of people a year circumambulate the mountain via a thirty-two-mile-long path. A pilgrimage circuit of a sacred place like Kailash is known as a khora. Khoras are always done clockwise around the sacred place or object, unless you are a contrarian Bönpo, who do khoras counter-clockwise (I encountered several Bönpos walking counter-clockwise around Mount Kailash). The Kailash khora, the high point of which is the 18,200-foot Drölma Pass, is a strenuous endeavor. The week I was in the Kailash area at least ten people perished while circumambulating the mountain. Several, reportedly, were elderly Hindus from India who may have come here, consciously or unconsciously, to transmigrate at this sacred place. Some hardy Tibetans, however, do the khora in one day. Most people take two or three days (I made it in two and a half days). 

Mount Kailash

After returning from Kailash I got the idea of doing a khora around Burkhan Khaldun, which without stretching the imagination too much could be considered Mongolia’s equivalent of Mount Kailash. I would of course not do the khora on foot but by horse, the traditional mode of travel in Mongolia. From what I could determine in Ulaanbaatar from talking to knowledgeable people, including several lamas familiar with sacred mountains, there was no tradition of doing a khora around Burkhan Khaldun. I was assured, however, that there was no law, custom, or tradition forbidding a khora of the mountain. Burkhan Khaldun was within the boundaries of the 4,740 square-mile Khan Khentii Strictly Protected Area, the Mongolian equivalent of a national park, and permits were needed to make extended trips in the area, but these could be easily obtained from the Strictly Protected Area offices in Ulaanbaatar. 

I had no sooner decided upon this course of action than I got a call from the translator I had used on my first trip to Burkhan Khaldun. She said that Zevgee, the Kherlen River herdsman from whom I had rented horses and who served as my guide on my first trip, was in town and wanted to talk to me. I met with Zevgee and his wife Tümen-Ölzii at a local pizza parlor. Zevgee wanted to know if I had any more horse trips in mind. By then in his early sixties, Zevgee was semi-retired, having turned over his herds to his sons, and had a lot of free time on his hands. I knew he enjoyed doing horse trips in the Khentii Mountains and I suspected he also needed the extra money from a horse trip to see him through the upcoming winter. I explained to him the khora I had done around Mount Kailash in Tibet and suggested that we do a khora around Burkhan Khaldun by horse. He was of course familiar with the concept of khoras. They are often done around sacred places and objects in Mongolia. 

I had been told by several knowledgeable people that in the nineteenth and early twentieth century there was a khora route around Bogd Khan Uul, the huge massif that looms up to the south of Ulaanbaatar, although admittedly I was never able to get details of its exact path. Also, pilgrims would routinely do khoras when visiting Erdene Zuu, the monastery founded in 1685-86 by Avtai Khan (1554–1588), the great-grandfather of Zanabazar, the First Bogd Gegeen of Mongolia (now a museum located on the outskirts of Kharkhorin, in Övörkhangai Aimag). First they would circumambulate the wall surrounding the monastery, which measures roughly 1350 feet on each side. Then they would circumambulate the three Zuu Temples at the southwest corner of the monastery complex. Entering the Central Zuu Temple, they would then circumambulate the famous Jowo statue, the centerpiece of the temple, passing behind it via a corridor along the back wall. 

Erdene Zuu 

Mini-khoras are also often done around ovoos, or stone cairns, that mark passes on highways and other auspicious places. Passing such an ovoo, many drivers will stop and circumambulate it three times. Some drivers, passing an ovoo on a pass, just honk their horns and claim that this counts as a khora. 

While a khora around an ovoo at a highway pass can be completed in ten or fifteen seconds, some khoras take considerably longer. It has long been believed in esoteric circles that the 1925–28 Roerich Expedition through Inner Asia, led by artist, mystic, spy, arch-intriguer, and hard-core Aghartian-Shambhalist Nicholas Roerich (1874–1947), was actually a khora around the mythical kingdom of Shambhala, believed to be located somewhere in Inner Asia. The expedition began in Srinagar, India, and made a vast clockwise circuit through India, East Turkestan, Russia, Mongolia (passing through Ulaanbaatar), China, Tibet, and back to India. The several books written by the Roerichs about the expedition did not mention that they interrupted the khora by making a side trip to Moscow, where they attempted to enlist the new communist government in a quixotic scheme to establish a new kingdom of Shambhala in Inner Asia. For more see my In Search of Shambhala: The 1925-1928 Roerich Expedition in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia.

After discussing these various khoras, Zevgee, like my other informants, says he is unaware of any tradition of doing khoras around Burkhan Khaldun. Although born in Bayankhongor Aimag, in southwest Mongolia, he has lived in the upper Kherlen River Valley since his early twenties and is recognized as a fount of local lore. His wife, Tümen-Ölzii, was born and raised in the Kherlen Valley and is also very knowledgeable about local traditions. She too has not heard of any tradition of doing khoras around Burkhan Khaldun. Both concurred, however, that there was no prohibition against it. Zevgee was quite excited about the idea and had mapped out a rough itinerary on a paper napkin even before we finished our pizza. Continued.

For more see:

Croatia | Istrian Peninsula | Pula

From Venice I wandered on down to Pula in Croatia.

Old Roman-era portal leading to the old town of Pula (click on photos for enlargements)

Statue of James Joyce outside a cafe he frequented when he lived in Pula

Square in the old town of Pula, which is a pedestrians-only area. It was early morning so there was no one about.

 

Temple of Augustus, built by Emperor Augustus (r. 27 BC–AD 14), said to be the oldest Roman monument in Croatia. On the right is a Neo-Pagan tree offering; a Christmas tree, in other words.

The most famous Roman monument in Pula is the Amphitheater built in the first century a.d. by Roman Emperor Vespasian (r. 69–79). The amphitheater seated about 20,000. Gladiators fought each other here (whether they fought to the finish is unclear), and also fought wild beasts like lions and tigers, whose cages can still be seen. Nowadays we have only the NFL. But James Harrison would have made a great gladiator!

By the fifth century the teachings of the Nazarene, a temple to whom can be seen in the background, had replaced the pagan beliefs of the Romans and gladiatorial bouts were outlawed. Nowadays the amphitheater hosts concerts, film festivals, and other cultural events. The Foo Fighters, Luciano Pavarotti, Plácido Domingo, Norah Jones, Alanis Morissette, Sinéad O'Connor, Elton John, Sting, Michael Bolton, Seal, Tom Jones,  Leonard Cohen, and Grace Jones, among others, have all performed here.

Hungary | India | Shambhala | Csoma de Körös

Csoma de Körös was a full-blown eccentric who devoted his entire life to the pursuit of arcane knowledge. As the Russian theosophist and fairy godmother of the New Age movement Madame Helena Blavatsky noted, “a poor Hungarian, Csoma de Körös, not only without means, but a veritable beggar, set out on foot for Tibet, through unknown and dangerous countries, urged only by the love of learning and the eager wish to shed light on the historical origin of his nation. The result was that inexhaustible mines of literary treasures were discovered.” Among the written works unearthed were the first descriptions of the Buddhist realm of Shambhala to reach the Occident. 

Körösi Csoma Sándor, later better known as Alexander Csoma de Körös, was born in Hungary on 4 April 1784 to a family of so-called Szeklers, a semi-military caste of the Hungarian Magyars who considered themselves descendants of Attila’s Huns. For centuries they had guarded the frontiers of Transylvania against the non-Christian Turks to the south. Csoma was expected to take up management of the family estate but at an early age began exhibiting symptoms of wanderlust . . . See Eccentric Hungarian Wanderer–Scholar Csoma de Körös and the Legend of Shambhala.

Tomb of Csoma de Körös in Darjeeling, India

Turkmenistan | Ashgabat | History Museum

My initial interest in Turkmenistan was spurred by my researches into the Mongolian Invasion Of Khwarezm, the ancient realm straddling the lower Amu Darya River and its delta where it flows into the Aral Sea, in the winter of 1220-21. The territory of old Khwarezm is today encompassed by both Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan. I had earlier visited Khiva, Janpiq Qala (fortress), and Gyaur Qala in the part of Khwarezm now in Uzbekistan, all sites attacked by Chingis Khan’s sons Ögedei and Chagatai as the Mongols swept through the region. The old Khwarezm capital of Gurganj is in Turkmenistan, however, eight and a half miles from the border and thirteen miles from Gyaur Qala. The ruins of Gurganj are close to the city of Konye (old) Urgench, not to be confused with the new city of Urgench in Uzbekistan. I of course wanted to visit Gurganj, which had put up the fiercest resistance of any city the Mongols had up to that point in time encountered in Islamic Inner Asia, but since I had no Turkmenistan visa and only a single entry Uzbek visa I was unable to cross the border.

Immediately upon my return from Uzbekistan I launched plans to enter Turkmenistan via its capital of Ashgabat and travel north to Konye Urgench. I soon learned that travel by foreigners in Turkmenistan was not a stroll in the park. A visa could only be obtained after a government-approved tourist agency had obtained a Letter of Invitation from the Turkmenistan authorities and most if not all travel agencies will not get you the Letter of Invitation unless you arranged your entire trip, including transportation and accommodations, through them. So it appeared pretty much impossible just to wander about on your own.  I contacted a travel agency in Ashgabat and told them that I wanted to visit Konye Urgench plus a number of other historical sites, some of them directly connected with the Mongol invasion and others not, which had turned up in my various researches. They very quickly responded with a detailed fourteen-day itinerary including most of the places I had mentioned and a few which they thought might be of interest to someone like myself who appeared to have an historical turn of mind. I had not heard of some of these places, but since they appeared to be on the route to the places I was interested in I thought I might as well check them out also. Since it would be difficult if not impossible to visit all these place in fourteen days using Turkmenistan’s dicy public transportation system they suggested that I charter a vehicle for the entire fourteen day trip. The travel agency’s drivers, I was told, did not speak English, but since my driver would simply be taking me on the approved itinerary, with pre-arranged stops each night, they did not anticipate any problems.

Actually this plan appealed to me. I had used drivers in Uzbekistan who did not speak English and had managed to communicate with them using my very basic Russian. I expected that my driver would also speak some Russian, since Turkmenistan like Uzbekistan was once part of the Soviet Union and Russian was widely taught in its schools and still used by many segments of the population. If the driver did speak Russian we could deal with simple logistical matters when necessary but the rest of the time I could just sit back and indulge in my own historically inspired revelries and daydreams without the tiresome personal interactions required by the presence of a guide or translator. In short, I would be pretty much on my own, except for the driver who would also be acting as my government-approved escort. 

I emailed a copy of my passport, photos, and personal information to the travel agency and two weeks later received the much-coveted Letter of Invitation. I was to present this to immigration officials at the Ashgabat airport and receive my visa there. Since I was in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia at the time, I flew from there on the direct flight to Istanbul (there is a one hour stop  in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, but you do not have to change planes). Surprisingly enough—at least to me—Turkish Airlines has two flights a day seven days a week to Ashgabat. After three days in Istanbul examining the recent acquisitions of my favorite Carpet Dealers and checking the  prices of spices in the shops lining the alleys just west of the Egyptian Bazaar (the best quality Iranian saffron is now selling for $925 a ounce), I took the metro to the airport for my 1:00 a.m. flight to Ashgabat. I would make my purchases on the return leg of the trip. 

When I arrived at the airport at 11:00 p.m. I was a bit disconcerted to find lined up at the business check-in counter forty or fifty people, mainly women, all with carts piled high with monumental mountains of baggage. My God, were all these people flying business class? It turns out not. They were small-time traders from Turkmenistan who had flown to Istanbul to buy goods for resale in Ashgabat. Since the business class check-in area was not much in use at this time of the night they had been herded here to get their heaps of luggage checked in.  I and some Chinese men flying business was shown to the front of the line and quickly checked in. The three-hour, 1570-mile flight from Istanbul to Ashgabat left at 1:15 a.m. It was sold out. Eight seats in the sixteen-seat business section were occupied by Chinese businessmen attending some energy-related conference. 

After about two hours we passed over the middle of the the Caspian Sea,  250 miles wide at this point, its inky black surface dotted with brightly lit offshore drilling platforms and gas flares. After another half hour we began our descent through heavy cloud cover to Ashgabat. It was raining hard when we finally touched down at 6:20 a.m. local time. Given all the rigamarole involved in getting an letter of invitation to the country, the procedure at the airport was quite easy. I presented my letter of invitation and was very quickly given a visa. There were no entry or customs documents to fill out and my luggage was x-rayed but not opened.  One of the women operating the x-ray machine said in English, “Have a nice stay in Turkmenistan.”

In the reception area I was met a young man from the tourist agency who whisked me away to my hotel. I had been told earlier that my room would not be available until noon. The plan was to stash my luggage at the hotel, have breakfast, then take a tour of the city in the morning until my room was free. I have very little if any interest in history which postdates the fall of the Ottoman Empire, and since Ashgabat is a fairly new city founded in the 1880s by Russian colonialists I doubted that there was much I would want to see.  The alternative, however, was to sit in the hotel lobby until my room was available. 

My driver, a young man in his twenties, spoke no English but as I had expected he spoke Russian. The rain was coming down even harder as we cruised down the wide multi-lane streets, mostly deserted at this hour of the morning. A bewildering array of huge white buildings reared up out of the rain and fog: the immense gold-domed Presidential Palace fronted with cascades of water; the likewise enormous many-columned Turkmen Parliament building; a vast Exhibition Center set in immaculately landscaped park complete with pools and fountains; the Academy of Sciences Building; the Carpet Museum, which according to my driver contains the largest handmade carpet in the world, duly recognized in the Guinness Book of World Records; a  children’s park containing what at first glance appeared to be a gigantic white candy life-safer but is actually the world’s largest ferris wheel (also in the Guinness Book of World Records); blocks of twelve-or-more-story luxury apartment buildings which seemed to stretch off into infinity; and much, much else. All the buildings seemed oversized, and all were white. The whole effect was almost hallucinatory. I had come to visit thirteen-century historical sites but seemed to have dropped into some futuristic city designed by a Turkic reincarnation of Albert Speer on acid. That I been up for over thirty hours and had guzzled a least half a gallon of coffee in the business lounge in Istanbul, on the plane, and at breakfast in my hotel certainly didn’t help my mental state. 

Having seen enough of Ashgabat for the moment I asked the driver to take me to the National History Museum, which I had heard contained an outstanding collection of 2000 year-old rhytons  and ostrakons from the ruins of the old Parthian capital city of Nisa located about ten miles west of Ashgabat. In front of the museum is a 436-foot flagpole which my driver claims is the tallest in the world; actually it’s the fourth tallest, after flagpoles in North Korea, Azerbaijan, and Tajikistan. 

Fourth tallest flagpole in the world (click on photos for enlargements)

National History Museum

I run through the still pouring rain and take refuge in the museum, which is very new, very elegantly appointed, and very quiet. I am the only visitor. I cannot help but notice that the floors, staircases, and immense pillars which hold up the central dome are all made of exactly the same kind of stone which I used for the countertops in the kitchen of my hovel in Mongolia. Someone here has good taste. 

Interior of the Museum. Love that stone!

The next thing to catch my eye is an immense carpet covering a large part of the back wall of the building. This is not largest handmade carpet in the world—that honor apparently goes to the specimen in the Carpet Museum—but this one comes close. It was made to celebrate the fifth anniversary of Turkmenistan’s independence following the fall of the Soviet Union. Thirty-eight carpet weavers worked from April 6, 1996 to October 10, 1996 to complete  the 43-foot by 68-foot carpet. It’s a beaut, no doubt. 

43-foot by 68-foot hand-made carpet

The main exhibitions showcasing findings from Nisa, Gonur Tepe, and Merv—all places on my itinerary—are on the second floor. I spend an enjoyable three hours poring over these artifacts and when I next look out the window the clouds have cleared and the sun is shining. It’s time to visit Nisa.

Italy | Venice | Palazzo Mocenigo

Wandered by the Museum of Palazzo Mocenigo, just behind the Church of San Stae on the Grand Canal. The museum also hosts the Study Centre of the History of Textiles, Costumes and Perfume. The museum and study center is housed in the former palazzo of the Mocenigos, one of the most prominent families in Venice for a period of several hundred years. Seven Mocenigos became doges: Tommaso (1414–23), Pietro (1474–76), Giovanni (1478–85), Alvise I (1570–77, Alvise II (1700-1709), Alvise III (1722-32), and Alvise IV (1763). There were two branches of family, one located here at San Stae and another further on down the Grand Canal at San Samuele. A member of the San Samuele branch, Giovanni Mocenigo, was notorious for denouncing irrepressibly hard-core pantheist and unapologetic Hermetic occultist Giordano Bruno to the Catholic Inquisition, which resulted in Bruno being burned at the stake in Paris on Ash Wednesday, February 17th, 1600.

Church of San Stae

Entrance to Palazzo Mocenigo

Costume Exhibit (click on photos for enlargements)

Costume Exhibit

Costume Exhibit

Costume Exhibit

Costume Exhibit

Book of perfume recipes plus raw ingredients for making Perfume. I was of course in Seventh Heaven here. 

Mongolia | In Search of Shambhala: The 1925-1928 Roerich Expedition in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia

The 1925-1928 Roerich Expedition, led by artist, mystic, spy, arch-intriguer, and hard-core Aghartian-Shambhalist Nicholas Roerich, was believed by some to be a khora, or circumnavigation, of the legendary kingdom of Shambhala. The Expedition spent seven months in Ulaanbaatar, the capital of Mongolia. Everywhere they turned the Roerichs stumbled upon signs of Shambhala . . . Continued . . .

Mongolia | False Lama of Mongolia: The Life and Death of Dambijantsan

Who was Dambijantsan?

A Buddhist monk; a freedom fighter for Mongolian independence; the descendant of Amursanaa (1723–1757), the Western Mongol who led the last great uprising against the Qing Dynasty of China; the incarnation of Mahakala, the Buddhist god of war; bandit, torturer, murderer, or evil incarnate? During his lifetime no one was sure who he really was, and even today the controversy about his life continues.

Born in what is now the Republic of Kalmykia, part of the Russian Federation, Dambijantsen traveled throughout Tibet, India, and China before arriving in Mongolia in 1890 where he tossed gold coins to bystanders and announced to one and all that he had come to free Mongolia from the yoke of the Qing Dynasty of China. After disappearing almost twenty years he returned to lead the attack on Khovd City, the last Chinese outpost in Mongolia. Honored by the Eighth Bogd Gegeen, the theocratic leader of Mongolia, for his efforts in achieving Mongolian independence, he went on to establish his own mini-state in western Mongolia, which he hoped to use as a base for establishing a Mongol-led Buddhist khanate in Inner Asia. His dictatorial nature and unbridled sadism soon came to the fore and he was finally arrested and imprisoned in Russia. After the Russian Revolution he returned to Mongolia, gathered new followers around him, and established a stronghold at the nexus of old caravan routes in Gansu Province, China. He robbed caravans, grew opium, and once again dreamed of creating a new Mongolian khanate in Inner Asia. Finally the new Bolshevik government in Mongolia, fearful of his rising power, issued orders for his assassination. Dambijantsan transmigrated in 1922, but in Mongolia legends persist to this day that his spirit still rides on the winds of the Gobi and continues to haunt his former lairs.

For more on Dambijantsan see False Lama of Mongolia: The Life and Death of Dambijantsan. 

Turkey | Nusaybin | White Water | Beyazsu | Fish Restuarant

After visiting Nusaybin and the Church of St. Jacob on the Turkish-Syrian border we stopped at one of the famous fish restaurants on the Beyazsu (White Water) River north of  the city.

Most of the restaurants on the Beyazu grow their own trout in water tanks fed by the Beyazsu River (click on image for enlargements).

Trout in the tanks. After you order they are netted and prepared for the table.

Most of the restaurants feature river-side dining.

River-side tables

River-side tables

River-side table where we dined

You might think this place was just for show and that the food would be an afterthought, but not so. This was one of the better restaurant meals I have had in years. Actually we ordered the Kurdish equivalent of Surf-n-Turf. The lamb kabobs are not shown here.

Uzbekistan | Seven Saints of Bukhara

See Seven Saints of Bukhara

According to the thirteen-century Persian historian Ata-Malik Juvaini, Bukhara, the city in what is now the country of Uzbekistan, “is the cupola of Islam and is in those regions like unto the City of Peace [Baghdad] . . . Since ancient times it has in every age been the place of assembly of the great savants of every religion.”

In the twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth centuries seven remarkable men lived in Bukhara and the surrounding Bukhara Oasis. These men were known as the Khwajagan, or Masters of Wisdom. The Seven Khwajagan are: Abd al-Khaliq al-Ghujdawani (1103–1179); Arif ar-Riwakri (1136-1239); Mahmud al-Injir al-Faghnawi (d.1317);Ali ar-Ramitani (d.1315/1321); Muhammad Baba as-Sammasi (d.1354); Sayyid Amir Kulal (1287?–d.1370); Bahauddin Shah Naqshband (1318–1388?)

The Khwajagan remain to this day revered as the Seven Saints of Bukhara, and their mausoleum complexes continue to be visited by pilgrims and travelers from all over the world.

U.S.A | Maryland | Pennsylvania | New Book

The 3,294-foot Big Savage Tunnel north of Frostburg closed for the winter on November 30, 2023, and would not reopen until March 28, 2024, thus effectively ending the biking season for through-trips between Cumberland and Pittsburgh. I spent the winter holed up in Frostburg, Maryland, which I am using as a base for my wanderings on the GAP. After the November 30 tunnel closing a few brief snow squalls laid down an inch or less of snow that quickly melted and occasionally rain would freeze at the higher altitudes, making the trail treacherous, but other than during these brief episodes the GAP remained open to the tunnel for much of December and early January. In late January and in February a few heavy snowfalls closed the GAP completely. The last big blizzard, which dropped close to six inches of snow, hit just before the Spring Equinox on March 19. It took almost a week for the snow to melt off the GAP north of Frostburg. As soon as the trail was clear I rode up to Big Savage Tunnel . . .  Continued.

USA | Allegheny Mountains | Spring Ephemerals

Foraging season for Spring Ephemerals in the Allegheny Mountains is reaching its peak. Ramps are looking great. Traditionally they are said to peak on Mother’s Day, which this year is on May 10,  but in recent years plants have been up to two weeks ahead of schedule due to our changing climate.

Ramps

A nice Spring dish of Garlic Mustard, Dandelion, Ground Ivy, and Ramps

The corm of Spring Beauties. Resembling a tiny potatoes, they are known in some circles as Fairy Spuds. A tasty little treat.

USA | Allegheny Mountains | Spring Flora

See Spring Flora over at Don Croner’s Wanders on the Great Allegheny Passage Bike Trail (GAP).

Mongolia | Zanabazar | First Bogd Gegeen of Mongolia

Zanabazar (1635–1723) was, according to most reckonings, the sixteenth incarnation of Javsandamba. The first incarnation is believed to have appeared around the time of the Buddha. As a small boy he was recognized as the spiritual leader of Mongolia and awarded the title of Bogd Gegeen. He would go on to play a role in the religious and political life of Mongolia analogous to that of the Dalai Lamas of Tibet. Zanabazar built temples and established monasteries, including one at what is now the site of Ulaanbaatar, the capital of Mongolia, and was a polymath who invented new scripts for writing the Mongolian language, designed new clothes for monks, studied the medical properties of hot springs, and much else. He is most famous for his bronze statues which are now the centerpieces of three museums in Ulaanbaatar. “During his lifetime, he was the greatest Buddhist sculptor in Asia,” opines art historian K. Youso about Zanabazar.” Indeed, he is often called the Michelangelo of Mongolia. Zanabazar was the first of Mongolia’s nine Bogd Gegeens. The Ninth Bogd Gegeen transmigrated on March 1, 2012.  During a visit to Mongolia on November 23, 2016, the Fourteenth Dalai Lama announced that the Tenth Bogd Gegeen had been born and that attempts were being made to identify him. Update: The Tenth has now been named. See Tenth Incarnation.

See The Life of Zanabazar

United States | Maryland | Great Allegheny Passage | Cumberland | Mount Savage | Frostburg

In Cumberland, Maryland, the Spring, or Vernal, Equinox occurred at 11:06 p.m. on March 19, according to the Gregorian calendar imposed on the Occidental world by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582. The Equinox marks the astrological astronomical beginning of the spring season in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s often said that the Spring Equinox is when day and night are of equal length. Actually, due to an astronomical quirk, the date when day and night are equal, known as the Equilux, is usually a few days before the Equinox. This year March 15 has eleven hours, fifty-nine minutes, and fifty-five seconds of daylight. The next day has twelve hours, two minutes, and thirty-one seconds of daylight, so the pendulum has already swung toward longer days. The day of the Equinox has twelve hours, ten minutes, and twenty-four seconds of daylight. The next day has twelve hours, thirteen minutes, and zero seconds, making it two minutes and thirty-six seconds longer than the day before. The procession is on to the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, on June 20. I have decided that between the Spring Equinox and the Summer Solstice I will wander on the Great Allegheny Passage, a bike and hiking trail built on the roadbeds of now-abandoned railroads that extends 150 miles from Cumberland to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Another trail, the C&O Canal Towpath, runs 184.5 from Cumberland to Washington, D.C, making it possible, in season, to ride a bike—or hike, if you are so inclined—334.5 miles from Pittsburgh to Washington. No motorized vehicles (except for electric bikes) are allowed on the entire path. Before proceeding on the GAP I will first explore the city of Cumberland . . . Continued.

USA | Allegheny Mountains | Trout Season | Ramps

Trout Season opened last Saturday. A local Waltonian stopped by my Retreat and dropped off two rainbow trout he had caught. True, they were hatchery-raised and stocked in a stream for sports fishermen, but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Rainbow trout and ramp leaves (click on photos for enlargements)

I also pickled the bulbs and the lower stems of some ramps in a brine of one-half water and one-half vinegar with one teaspoon of turbinado sugar, one teaspoon of Mongolian lake salt, and two sassafras leaves (used as a substitute for bay leaves; both sassafras and bay belong to the same botanical family). 

Pickled ramps

As a side dish to the trout I made some lentils and Basmati rice with steamed (not boiled) ramp leaves and pickled ramp stems and bulbs as a garnish.