Across Mongolia - by horse

The 1,000-km equine endurance race

Genghis Khan could get a message through Mongolia to Eastern Europe in 14 days through a network of messengers on horseback travelling at great speed. But that was 800 years ago - now we have Fedex and email so you'd think that racing across Mongolia on horseback would be a thing of the past. It’s not. Welcome to the Mongol Derby – the longest horse race in the world. WideWorld talks to Charles van Wyk who won this year's race in August.

The Mongol Derby sees competitors mounting their steeds and gallopping 1,000km through the vast and empty wilderness of Mongolia. This year's winner was 28 year-old South African endurance rider and adventurer Charles van Wyk, who annihilated the 14-day allowance for this gruelling endurance race, finishing in just eight days.

The Mongol Derby is based on the historical route of the Mongol ruler’s postal system of the 13th century, where horses were kept at staging posts every 40 kilometres along the route. The equine-relay system was replicated by the The Adventurists, the organisation behind the Derby, which rounded up over 700 Mongolian horses, all selected and checked by veterinarians, to be stationed along the 1000 km route.

Preparation

Given that this is the only horse race in the world of this distance, the competitors were training for a challenge of unknown magnitude. “I do endurance riding in South Africa,” van Wyk tells WideWorld, “and the longest ride we do is a one day race of 160 kilometres, so I’m used to that distance. But 1,000km was something totally different.”

None of the 26 selected riders had raced that distance on horseback before, and whilst guidance was given by the race organisers, competitors undertook individual training schedules. “We didn’t know how physically fit we needed to be,” says van Wyk, “so it was more important to prepare yourself mentally”. A cycling enthusiast, van Wyk used this as a way to prepare physically, training on a bike more than on horseback.

Van Wyk is gracious and composed. There is no sense of arrogance as he talks about his achievements. Now back in South Africa, he is clearly overwhelmed by his experience in Mongolia, often finding it hard to put into words the vastness of the landscape and generosity of the people. Unusually for a sportsman, he does not have a fiercely competitive nature. For him, the Derby wasn't about the competition. “It was an adventure,” he says.

Van Wyk had never competed outside of South Africa and didn’t want a preoccupation with the race to obscure the magnificence of the adventure, and of Mongolia. “The first few days I wasn’t competitive at all, I was just enjoying myself,” he says.  His attitude didn’t stop him from taking an early lead.

The competition

The competitors rode from 6am to 8pm every day, dismounting between sunset and sunrise for safety reasons. If by sundown a rider had not reached a horse station, they would sleep out in the open. Horses were selected from the stations on a first-come-first-served basis – so ideally those ahead could choose the best horse. But determining the best horses of this breed was not easy, and Van Wyk confesses to having one or two particularly lazy and difficult types. The riders had the GPS co-ordinates of each station, but there was no fixed route in between. “There were no roads, no tracks, no fences, just open spaces, like a desert of grass,” says Van Wyk. “Even with the GPS co-ordinates you had no idea what you were riding into - sometimes you’d get to the top of a hill, and there could be a valley or mountains ahead.”

Endurance racing is a very different game to regular flat racing or steeple chasing. Endurance riding requires an extraordinary level of stamina – neither horse nor rider can depend on adrenalin from shoulder-to-shoulder competitors. Rather than rivalry, it seems that the Mongol Derby instilled a sense of comradeship.

The 26 riders of varying ages and experience all came from various different equine sports. Champion jockey Richard Dunwoody took the riders on a two-day ride prior to the race to assess their abilities. But even before this, the race organisers whittled hundred applications down to 26 according to riding ability and physical fitness. Out of 26, just two riders didn’t complete the race – both suffering from falls.  Although fitted with GPS trackers and safe in the knowledge that rapid response emergency care was on hand, horses are unpredictable animals – and being thrown in the wilds of Mongolia was a very real threat.

Horse welfare

“The most important thing was looking after the horses and getting the horse in a good state to the next station,” van Wyk says. “As each rider came into a station, vets would check their horse before riders were allowed to take another and continue the race. “They were very strict on the horses,” he says. Some small groups had petitioned to ban the race, deeming it cruel to the horses, but, as van Wyk points out, the race depended on local Mongolians offering their horses for the race. Van Wyk explains that in Mongolia the horse spirit is considered more important than the human spirit, and the local people would not have frivolously risked the wellbeing of their animals.  

The horse is very much a part of the Mongolian culture – steeped in tradition and myth; they out number people seven to one. More than a pet, the horse is still used as transport and as part of the work force – Mongolian horses are known for their strength and resilience. Van Wyk also noted that some of the horses had stripes on their legs and body, reminiscent of the zebra.

There was one Mongolian rider in the race – Shiravsambo Galbadrakh – with whom van Wyk rode with, and finished. “The first day we were riding together there was a little bit of competition on his side,” says van Wyk, “but after a day he saw that I was not racing him, and when he realised that, we just rode together. If I stopped he stopped with me.” What is extraordinary about this partnership is that Galbadrakh didn’t speak English. But for van Wyk, having a silent companion was a great help – he talks about a vulnerability that comes from riding alone in such a vast and solitary landscape. Their wordless friendship was cemented when Galbadrakh drove away a group of drunk men on motorcycles who were demanding money from van Wyk as he approached a small town.

Toughest day

Although he finished the race with no injuries, the race undoubtedly put strain on van Wyk's body. “After the third or fourth day I think most of the riders went through a bad patch, physically and mentally,” he says. “My toughest day physically was the fourth: My legs were sore, my back was aching - everything was not good.”  But, he says, you just had to carry on.

Van Wyk was one of the few competitors that had endurance riding experience. Inheriting a horse from his older brother who had lost interest, van Wyk began with trail rides and military gymkhana when he was a teenager. He was 15 when he started endurance riding.

Whilst van Wyk’s talent is undisputed, endurance riding – like many sports – requires funding. And horses aren’t cheap. “It’s becoming more and more an elite sport,” he says. “In the Middle East, endurance riding is one of the most important sports. About 10 years ago countries there started buying horses from South Africa, and it became much more about money, not just about the pleasure of the sport.”

Van Wyk trains horses and rides for other people. “At the moment I don’t have my own horse, and I normally ride the younger more difficult horses [for my clients]. Most people keep the best horses for themselves.”

Today, van Wyk is back in South Africa preparing to work another season of endurance riding and training. He’s still readjusting from his incredible journey in Mongolia. It must be frustrating to have proved your talent, but not to have the financial backing needed to compete on the international circuit. But van Wyk is philosophical. His dream is now to organise a ride from Cairo to Cape Town. If anyone else proposed such an idea, you'd probably think they were mad. But when it comes from van Wyk, you want to say, 'sounds great, where do I sign up?'