I’m typically an over-planner when it comes to travel, but for the past 4+ years I’ve been in a chapter of family hardship that has forced me to let go of my Type A ways. During this time NOTHING has gone according to plan. I can never predict when it will be a good time to leave home, so I’ve had to learn to truly live life one day at a time, to constantly pivot and change even the best laid plans, and to always be ready to tackle things that are impossible to prepare for.
In a way, Mongolia was the perfect adventure for this moment in life because it shared a similar vibe. It was spontaneous, unpredictable, and there was a constant need to lean into the unknown. It wasn’t an adventure in the sense of what I was used to—months of structured training and preparation, ending at a beautiful summit that doubled as a measure of success and accomplishment. It was an adventure in simply saying yes and letting the experience happen.
Since I had no idea what to expect, every day unfolded as a complete surprise. The mix of active and road trip days was perfect for pushing myself while having the chance to sit back and take it all in. We saw wild camels, horses, gazelles, yaks, and so many baby goats. We experienced all four seasons in a matter of hours, drank our weight in milk tea, and hiked unmarked trails deep into the Altai Mountains. We got to plant trees that will help reverse desertification for years to come, and herd livestock on the backs of motorcycles and bicycles. Those same bicycles took us 40+ miles across the Gobi Desert, while teaching us how to avoid sand traps that threatened to knock us down at every turn. We broke through language barriers with laughter, music, and games of Uno and broken telephone.
When obstacles did occur—things like getting our van stuck in the mud (more than once), or all of my clothes getting completely soaked in a rainstorm—everyone worked together to give the van a push and hand-dry all of my clothing, piece by piece, with the hotel hair dryers. Simply watching our GAL, Sarah, handle some of the challenges that popped up taught me how to be a better leader, and how to ask for help.
Mongolia is one of those destinations where the lessons you take away will come from what you put in. If you learn how to keep the sand from knocking you down from your bike, you might find a totally new kind of freedom, racing through vast stretches of nothingness. If you push yourself up the seemingly impossible off-trail vertical incline, you might find yourself reenergized in a patch of snow that you couldn't even see from the bottom. If you help the neighbors herd their livestock, you might find yourself recharging with vodka and laughter at their house afterwards.
It takes a certain kind of person to embrace Mongolia’s essence. Someone who doesn’t need to know exactly where they’re going next, what they’ll be doing, or how they’re going to do it, but can still have faith in knowing it'll be worth it. I don’t think the Kim of 10 years ago would have been able to travel this way. But if life has taught me anything lately, it’s that sometimes you just need to let go and let things happen. Saying yes and figuring it out can feel daunting, but it can also result in beautiful surprises—gorgeous views, new cultural experiences, and new friendships built on shared experiences.
During our last homestay we had a celebration dinner with our guides, sharing heartfelt stories about our time together over traditional Mongolian food and generous pours of vodka. We went around the table, each pulling a random card to reveal an inspiring quote to take home from our adventure. It seemed fitting that this was mine: “Say yes and you’ll figure it out afterwards.”
Life didn’t stop while I was in Mongolia. Just days after my return, my family took another hit that completely derailed all of the plans I'd been trying to lay. But I’m so glad I had the experience and lessons of Mongolia to help me continue to move forward. Some days it feels like I have no idea where I'm going, let alone where I'll end up. But I know that I can handle it.
I think everyone can benefit from their own Mongolia—whatever that looks like to you. And if you have limiting beliefs you'd like to break through, you want to explore yourself beyond your comfort zone, or you simply want to be more spontaneous and adventurous, Mongolia may be right for you.
Learn more about the author Kim Merrit.
If you’re a sucker for nostalgia like us, buckle up. We’re throwing it all the way back to our first official WHOA Adventure: Kilimanjaro International Women’s Day 2014. Now, as we're deep into our thirteenth year of trekking to 19,341 feet, we're reflecting on just how massive the impact of our initial idea turned out to be. And while a lot has changed with WHOA and in the world since that first hike, the heart of it all hasn't. So let’s throw it back and take a look at then vs. now: what’s changed, what’s stayed the same, and the impact of our long-term commitment.