There is a world somewhere between reality and fiction. Although ignored by many, it is very real and so are those living in it. This forum is about the natural world. Here, wild animals will be heard and respected. The forum offers a glimpse into an unknown world as well as a room with a view on the present and the future. Anyone able to speak on behalf of those living in the emerald forest and the deep blue sea is invited to join.
Tracking Gobi Grizzlies.
And then, fast as a shooting star, the silhouette of a saker falcon cuts a line through the sky and disappears behind a peak. Perhaps twenty minutes later, a single raven call comes echoing down one of the side-canyons. The rest is stillness again, the Gobi's all-encompassing, unchanging views and the sound of no sound. Ir was a while before I fully grasped why this stasis wasn't broken by big wildlife more often. Wherever I turned, my gaze took in such a broad span and I could see so far into it, I anticipated finding a band of wild asses, perhaps a line of wild camels, or at least a lone gazelle if I scanned the panorama carefully through binoculars. Nope. The only animals I could count on seeing were the pied wagtails that hopped around base camp picking up insects and scraps. Only once in a while did I manage to view large mammals. It was usually at a distance, and most often because I was tipped off by long streamers of dust rising from the ground where they were on the move. Many and many a square mile was required to sustain a single animal through the changing seasons and years and cycles of drought in this desiccated domain. If the numbers that I had heard listed for hoofed wildlife in the GGSPA sounded high, it was because the reserve is colossal. To hike so far and come upon so few to watch wasn't disappointing; it was the Gobi. I took it as inspiration for walking farther and looking harder.
Bears of the Himalayan Mountains
