CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT On day eight of the expedition, we made our first big tour. The Naran, meaning “sun,” is 12,625 feet high, but not technically challenging. After six hours of travel, Sébastien Jam made his first turns in Mongolian powder. At the end of the run, the snow changed quickly, causing him to fall and break his splitboard. Battulga “Woogie” Gantulga, founder of the Mongolian Professional Snowboard Fed-eration. He’s proudly wearing a traditional deel with the logo of the federation over his snowboard jacket while walking around camp and preparing for the next day’s adventure. Enkhtulga Enkhbayar took this photo with my camera. A colonel and six soldiers of the Mongolian military alpine division arrived unexpectedly at camp. They showed interest in our equipment and even though we told them a pair of touring skis would help them travel the mountains, they couldn’t keep their eyes off the splitboard. The colonel tried out a splitboard with his hiking boots, while a sleeping bag on the ground simulated the mountain. He decided he wanted one. Our first experience with the Potanin Glacier didn’t go as planned—it was way bigger than we expected. With our intended peak remaining far off on the horizon, we eventually returned to base camp. It took us 12 hours of touring to realize the scale of the terrain. THE NASCENT ROOTS OF MONGOLIAN SNOWBOARDING It all started in 2009, when Woogie founded the Mongolian Profes-sional Snowboard Federation and partnered up with Mustafa. Now with 60-plus members, the MPSF has built a respectable snowboard community in Ulaanbaatar. Including the MPSF, there are around 300 riders in the country. Together with the Sky Ski Resort, Woo-gie and Mustafa’s mission is to make snowboarding more accessible. They’ve done so by creating a rental service for those who are not able to import boards from Japan or the United States themselves, which is weirdly cheaper than getting boards from China. “We have two snowboard teachers at the moment,” Woogie ex-plains with a humble smile. “It’s the only place where people can learn how to ride. No Mongolian goes into the countryside and climbs a mountain with their skis or snowboard on their back. The only reason they would go there is to find their horses. This trip will be very inspir-ing to every snowboarder over here. And I hope every snowboarder over there will be inspired by us.” Woogie traveled all the way to Austria to receive his instructor’s certificate so he could spread the love back home. He is currently the only certified snowboard teacher in Mongolia. There’s no doubt he will start Mongolia’s first snowboard school. For now, he is looking to expand his knowledge of big mountain exploration. SETTING THE SCALE After four days of travel, we finally reach Altai Tavan Bogd National Park. Bright green grass is just beginning to emerge from the snow-melt. We wait another day before starting the five-hour hike to the confluence of the Alexander and Potanin glaciers. The delay had something to do with the camels, which will carry our gear, running off into the wild, along with the Mongolian border patrol need-ing to double-check our permits. But we make it to base camp in due time and under clear skies. From there, we have a panoramic view of the biggest mountain range in Mongolia. Tavan Bogd means “Five Saints,” which refers to the five highest peaks that top out with 14,350-foot Khuïten Peak. Home to 34 glaciers, the range’s steep faces are caked with spring snow atop year-round blue ice. It’s intimi-dating and spectacular. On our first day in the mountains, we realize we have completely miscalculated their scale. It takes a two-hour descent through a steep moraine just to reach the glacier, then three hours to cross its cracked and partially melted ice. Another three hours of skinning takes us to a final two-hour boot-pack to the top of our line. A single 30-second descent requires 12 hours of hiking, climbing and splitting. But it is a justified effort. We are in a region of the Altai that has never seen a snowboard. Every turn we make is gold. 068 THE SNOWBOARDER’S JOURNAL