As a young boy, Enkhjargal wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of Hutag-Ondor, a sleepy hamlet in the Bulgan province. He knew it was never truly unpleasant. Even the Northern Mongolian winters – notorious for their cruelty – had been just another fact of life that he’d grown up with. What really upset him was the dullness of it all, the ceaseless repetition of the harvest cycles from one season to the next. 

Visitors to the steppes would always marvel at the breathtaking vistas. But when Enkhjargal looked outside the ger, the vast expanse just reminded him of how difficult it would be to explore the world beyond. 

Many summers ago, Nergüi’s brother, Ganbold, visited town. He worked as a baggage handler at the Chinggis Khaan Airport, down in Ulaanbaatar. Enkhjargal still remembers the envy he felt, sitting in their yurt, as Ganbold regaled them with stories of the interesting people and strange objects he encountered.

Enkhjargal used to believe he lacked what the elders call temul – the will to rush headlong toward the heart’s desire. Maybe he was right. In any case, it didn’t matter, by now.

These days, he’s at peace with his lot in the world. It’s mid-June, and he spends most of his day shearing the goats. The herd sports a rich gray undercoat that makes fine cashmere. Enkhjargal has already met the quota set by Mister Arslandorj. The trader brings his truck around every fortnight until the end of summer, to gather supplies for his fabric company, Direct-Selenge.com. In the four years they’ve been doing business, there has yet to be a single major disagreement.

Sure, it’s not the most exciting life, but one thing makes it all worth it. Shortly before nightfall, Enkhjargal returns to his tent, into the firm arms of Batbayar. Around this time of year, the burly Rashaanti usually spends the day preparing borts – dried, cured horsemeat – which he hangs to dry on the inner roof. His “darling Enkhe” finds the scent absolutely tantalizing.  Long after their nightly grunting winds down, their bodies remain intertwined. They huddle close for warmth, as both men drift off into slumber. It’s during these fleeting, half-asleep moments that Enkhjargal realizes that he’s already on the best journey he could ever want – to explore the soul of the man he loves.